


it's the deep end that we jump in, it's the love that we become

by philindas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philindas/pseuds/philindas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson, Melinda May, and an ice rink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's the deep end that we jump in, it's the love that we become

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nessnessquik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessnessquik/gifts).



> Rachael prompted me this aaaaages ago (like, it was back in November. I suck.) but I finally finished it! Title from Little Big Town's Tumble and Fall.

“What’re you doing out here, it’s freezing!” Melinda turned at the sound of Phil’s voice, gliding backwards on her skates, hands behind her back.

“I just needed to think,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. She shivered slightly, her thin coat not quite keeping her warm, but she kept moving over the frozen surface of the pond. Phil stood a few inches from the shore, and she slid over to him, sending up shaved ice in his direction. He rolled his eyes, shaking the melting water from his pajama pants.

“You don’t even have a real coat on,” Phil says, voice soft, before he shrugs out of his own coat, handing it to her. She immediately shakes her head, and he wiggles the coat insistently until she takes it.

“Now you don’t have a coat,” she says, tugging the warm cotton around her, nose buried in the collar that smelled like Phil.

“I’m from Wisconsin. This is barely winter,” he tells her and she rolls her eyes before pushing off, skating in a backwards figure eight. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here by yourself?”

Melinda shrugs again, continuing to skate, and Phil shifts his stance, crossing his arms. “I can stand here all night.

“No you can’t,” she taunted, though she knew if he put his mind to it, he would really stand there all night, waiting for her to be ready to talk. Sighing, she slowed, skating back and forth in front of him slowly. “Mom won’t be home for my birthday.”

Phil’s lips dipped into a frown, and he carefully stepped onto the lake; he wobbled for a moment, arms flailing outward to keep him steady, and she skated towards him, taking his hands. He pulled her a little closer, one of his cold hands coming up to cup her cheek. “I’m sorry Lin. I know how excited you were to go home for your birthday.”

“’S okay,” she said softly, shrugging as she ducked her head into his hand. They both moved at the same time and Phil’s legs folded underneath him; they ended up sprawled on the ice, Melinda on top of Phil’s chest. They both laughed, breathlessly, and Melinda shook her head, dark hair falling like a veil over their faces as she leaned over him. “At least I’ll be with you.”

Her remark is soft and low, and Phil’s hand tightened against her back as he looked up at her, blue eyes warm in the moonlight. “Always.”

His lips are warm even though the ice is cold on her knees.

_

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She doesn’t even turn at Phil’s voice, just keeps skating in the lazy loop-de-loop she’s going in. She’d been thrilled to find out about the ice rink in one of the sub-basements of the Triskellion when they’d been stationed here six months ago. It hadn’t been a huge adjustment, going from the Academy to being partners, but things had still shifted.

“We should talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Melinda threw over her shoulder, moving to skate in a backwards loop. “Go home, Phil.”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this,” he replied, stepping up to lean against the rink door. “Someone died today, Melinda.”

“I’m well aware of that, Agent Coulson,” she bit back, voice low. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault, May,” Phil was talking before she’d even finished her sentence, straightening up. “You can’t blame yourself for Agent Rigsby’s death; you didn’t shoot him, and none of us knew that woman was the actual target.”

“His wife is having a baby next month,” Melinda said after a moment, continuing to skate in random circles. “Their wedding anniversary was last week. He’s somebody’s kid, somebody’s friend, somebody’s gym buddy.”

“We knew what we were getting into with this job,” Phil replies, shrugging his shoulders. Melinda frowned, slowing slightly.

“What if I want more?” she asks, question barely above a whisper, and Phil’s arms slowly slipped down to his sides from their folded position.

“What are you asking?” is all he can reply, and her gaze dips for a moment, hands shoving into her pockets.

“I have a date. This weekend. With that psychologist,” she tells him, and there’s a moment where it feels like his stomach is bottoming out. “I want more than this 9-5, Phil. I want a family. A life outside this office.”

“Oh,” he mumurs softly, caught off guard, and she swallows, toe pick chipping at the ice in front of her. “I hope it goes well.”

He turns and leaves without another word, footsteps echoing in the large room, and the chill she feels isn’t from the ice.

_

There’s no beauty to the way she’s skating now.

Even tragedy can’t mask the grace of her movements, but it’s all mechanical; there’s no feeling. He hadn’t looked for her here first, and the shock that even when her world is crashing down around her, she finds some form of comfort in this chilly rink.

It’s been fourteen days since they came back from Bahrain and he lost the Melinda May he’d known since they were eighteen. Seven days since she’d informed him she’d given Andrew divorce papers and she’d taken residence up in his apartment. Two days since she’d put in her transfer papers to administration.

He doesn’t say anything; just sits down near the door and watches as she aimlessly moves around the rink. It almost hurts to watch; gone is the warm, kind, humorous Melinda that he’d fallen in love with so long ago. There’s ice in her bones now and he’s afraid if he so much as touched her she’d break.

They don’t speak, but he knows she knows he’s there, and it’s enough. She skates for a little while longer before she stops at the door, wobbling slightly on the skates. She looks up at him, dark eyes brimming with tears, and Phil’s up from his seat in seconds, closing the distance between them. He catches her just as she tilts, holding her against his chest as she lets out a sob.

They sink to the ground in a slow motion, Melinda curled up in Phil’s lap, and he lets her cry, the low hum of the filtered air the only background noise.

_

“I have to babysit _Tony Stark_ , of all people.”

Melinda rolls her eyes at Phil’s voice, focusing on the path of her feet she carves across the ice. “As if this isn’t your dream job.”

“Tony _Stark_ , Lin,” he reiterates, and she turns to look at him.

“I heard you the first time. You get to hang out with an Avenger. That’s pretty much your life goal,” she tells him, raising an eyebrow as she passes him.

“Not the Avenger I want to hang out with,” he mumbles, and this time she manages to laugh.

“Tell Pepper I said hi,” is all she says in response, and he says, lips curving upwards. She skates closer, moving to rest her hands on the edge of the rink. “You’ll be careful?”

“I’m always careful,” he tells her, and she shakes her head fondly. “Practically my middle name.”

“Just don’t have too much fun babysitting the playboy,” she says, touching his hand with her own. “Maybe we could get dinner when you get back. You can tell me all about it.”

“I’d like that,” he says, and she smiles- one that lights up the corners of her eyes.

It’s the last thing he thinks about before Loki’s spear pierces his chest.

_

 “Do you like it?”

She hides her smile as she glides over the ice, hands behind her back. She hears Phil walk up, and she turns to look at him, twisting her form to face him. “Six months without me leave too much time on your hands?”

“I had a little free time,” he answers with a shrug, hands in his pockets as he leans a hip against the open door frame. “Is it up to snuff?”

“For an ice rink in the basement of a secret base? It does the trick,” she replies, allowing him to see her smile before she pushes off, gaining speed until she can land the jump, gliding back towards him with a beaming grin this time.

“You still got it,” he tells her, affection clear in his voice, and her cheeks flush in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. “Mind if I join you?”

She shakes her head, hiding her smile as he steps cautiously onto the ice. He wobbles for a moment before he catches himself- Melinda offers him her hand, and he links his fingers with hers without pause. Slowly they circle the rink, holding hands; the silence is broken but some form of music that’s atrociously hip and poppy and disco lights flick on, bathing the rink in technicolor.

The rest of the team appears in the doorway; Daisy’s face is spilt with a grin that’s rivaled by both Bobbi and Jemma’s. “Oh, I’m sorry- are we interrupting?”

Both Melinda and Phil roll their eyes, and the kids make their way onto the ice; Fitz grips Jemma’s hand tightly, and Bobbi laughs as Lance falls flat on his ice the second his skates touch the rink. Mack and Joe are the last to spill into the rink, and Daisy presses a button on the remote to turn the music up, the beat obnoxiously loud as everyone begins to skate.

“Still having fun?” Phil asks, practically having to shout in her ear, but she smiles up at him, nodding.

“I’m with you,” she says back, breath warm in his ear, and he pulls back to look at her before she reaches up, cupping his cheek as she kisses him. She tastes like cinnamon and memories and everything he’s wanted since the first time he saw her. They ignore the catcalls of the ragtag group of kids they call theirs and fall into the kiss headfirst.

Neither of them are afraid to hit the ice anymore.


End file.
